Of Palest Shadows
by Twisted Ferret
Summary: A tale of loss, of discovery, and overcoming adversity. Spoilers, Dark Brotherhood. Chapter eight is up, and my apologies for the long delay.
1. In the Hour of Midnight

Disclaimer: The realms in which the tales told in the Elder Scrolls games are rich, beautiful landscapes that could tell so many other tales, but no matter what creative liberties might be taken in the telling of these tales, the fact remains that the setting, the countries, and any Non Player Characters mentioned that play a part in the actual games are the sole property of the game developers only, and not of the author who tells the story. However, characters and places appearing that do not also appear in the games are of my creation, and therefore, my property alone.

Author's Note: It should be pointed out that in this story, as in many others that I intend to write, I have taken certain creative liberties. Events may not occur as they do in the games, dialogue may not appear exactly the same, that sort of thing.

Chapter One: In the Hour of Midnight

Few people that begin life simply, and quietly, ever expect things to go wrong, just when things seem to be going so very right. In a little settlement south of Cheydinhal, a place not even mentioned on modern maps, there had lived three small families. Farmers mostly, sheep herders, people who would have never bothered a soul. Except of course, that they had all migrated to the little settlement from _somewhere_. Gareth Rithsbane, for example, the aging patron of the Rithsbane family, had, in his youth, been a member of the Dark Brotherhood. Maris Lenve, before retirement had served among the Morag Tong, and Lenin Tarvan was a former thief. They each of them had long ago made the decision to leave that life of shadow behind and move on, having earned a peaceful retirement through dedicated service.

So, time passed, spring fading into summer, winter into spring. Time passed and the families grew, peaceful, quiet, secluded. Every once in a great while one of the children would decide to venture off, to find adventure and glory. But, for the most part, those children stayed in the settlement. Lilith Rithsbane was the great grand daughter Gareth, an almost timid girl of sixteen tender years. She had her grandfather's pale blonde hair, so pale it was very nearly white. She had also inherited the unique trait of her family line, the eyes of pale gold, like sun kissed honey. She was fresh faced, naïve, innocent. She wore her hair long, past her narrow waist, twisted into a single thick braid.

"You have that look in your eyes again Lilith. You aren't thinking of leaving us already are you?" Gareth, aged as he was, was bed or chair bound, incapable of walking under his own volition. Therefore, it was the duty of all the younger daughters and grandchildren to take turns tending to the oldest among them. So, Lilith was sitting on the floor next to his chair, diligently stitching the hem of a new shirt.

"I have to wonder, Granda, what there is out there. We spend so much time here, surrounded by trees and plains, the only ones who ever see anything remotely like a city are the ones that leave. And they seldom come back. I can't help wondering what else is out there."

"Heartache, Little One. Pain and suffering. Better to stay right here, where you're safe, than to run off into the wide world. There are men out there who prey on girls like you without a second though, bandits, highwaymen, and worse," and that was that. The conversation was let to drop. Another girl came in to take over as Gareth retired for the night, and Lilith slipped off to the small home she shared with her mother.

Night fell, the moon stretching her silvery fingers across the blackening blanket of the sky. Stars dotted the darkness like diamonds against onyx hair. One by one the torches and lanterns were put out, casting the little settlement under a blanket of shadow. Doors were closed, shutters barred and after awhile the only sounds were the quiet muffled noises of livestock and wildlife, and soon, not even that. Not even a dog whimpered as the interlopers crept across the borders of the settlement. They were good at what they did, slipping silently into the sleeping homes and cutting the families down in their beds. Men, women, children, it made no difference to the silent killers. They might have succeeded with no problems, save that Gareth and Maris were both light sleepers, given their past professions. The both of them were waiting, swords in hand, sitting in the dark when the assassins crept in. Though the killers might have been good, they were simply no match for the skill that decades of experience lends one.

"To arms!" the strong, commanding voice of Maris Lenve rang out through the blankness, rousing those that still lived. Lanterns and torches flared to life, piercing through the darkness and shedding light on the macabre scene that awaited them, "To arms!" members of all three families spilled out of doorways, weapons in hand.

Roused from her sleep, Lilith stumbled down the stairs to the common room, rubbing sleep from her eyes, "Ma?" her mother was peering cautiously out the door. Hearing her daughter behind her, the woman slammed the door closed and darted forward to push the girl further into a back room.

"Shhh. Lilith, be quiet, they'll hear you," then she realized that of all the houses in the settlement there were only a few that had no lights in them, and hers was one, "Oh I just knew this day would come, but no one would listen to me. We should have been away from here when your father died, but I just had to let Gareth talk me into staying. You were just a little mite then, and it was a horrid winter, you remember," it was the first time she could ever recall her mother being so frazzled and nervous, "I have to see what I can do to help. You stay in here Lil. Stay in here, keep low, and for the Nine's sake, keep it dark. So long as it's dark, they might not come in here," then she was gone, darting out the door, a relic of a shortsword clutched in one hand.

So Lilith stayed, crouched there in the dark, cowering and scared because she didn't know any better, didn't know what to do. She stayed there, hidden, trying to ignore the sounds of battle outside her home, the dying shrieks and groans of the people she loved most in the world. Eventually the sounds stopped, and still she stayed hidden, night stretching into day, the rosy fingers of dawn stretching out to drawn back the curtain of night. After peering cautiously out the nearby window she decided that it might be safe enough to venture out, and wondered, not for the first time, what was keeping her mother. Stepping out the front door she discovered what.

The woman who had been the sole provider for the girl for the past nine years lay crumpled just four feet from the door, the weapon nearby, as if it had only slid from numb, unfeeling fingers. Her wounds were many, some shallow, but more than one was grievous, deep and gaping, "At least you died well Ma," it took three hours to make the complete circuit of the settlement, searching each house as she went. Just three hours to determine that everyone she had known and loved was gone, and in all of Havenmeet, she was the only one still living. She ought to have felt sorrow, broken down in tears, but the only thing she felt was a burning rage, an anger that raced through her, consuming everything.

She was a wraith, a pale shadow sliding along the wall, her prey oblivious. He was drunk, she could smell the reek of booze wafting off him from where she stood. He was the last. The last of the fools who had taken her family from her. Just one more and it would be done, one more and she wouldn't have to kill anymore. He rounded the corner, tottering on drunken legs, and she was there. Silver flashed, driving home, grinding past bone to seek the hot, throbbing, life giving muscle. He didn't even have time to cry out before he fell, lifeblood pooling out on the ground. A ghost of a smile flitted across her lips as she slipped away, leaving the silver dagger abandoned next to the body. It wasn't needed anymore.

But there was another shadow watching the pale woman with the white gold hair as she killed and vanished. A shadow cloaked in night that wore a slight and cold little smile of his own.


	2. The Rite of Shadows

Chapter Two: Rite of Shadows

Author's Note: Chapter One was a little sketchy, and maybe not the best effort, but I had to introduce Lilith and give an explanation for why she is what she is. For those that haven't yet inferred it, Of Palest Shadows chronicles the tale of a girl who has lost everything

finding her purpose in life, encountering a new family, and perhaps a new love. This tale will chronicle, chapter by chapter, the Dark Brotherhood faction quests, of course, with a little creative license taken. So, for those of you that haven't done this faction quest yet, and don't want to know about the missions before hand, you may not want to read much further than this chapter. For those of you that HAVE completed the quests and now enjoy the rich rewards of that, please, sit back and enjoy the ride.

She slept as only the spiritually and mentally exhausted can sleep, the deep, dreamless sleep that borders on death. The rough armor she had worn the night before lay abandoned just to the left of the door, cast aside by weary hands, still splattered with the blood of her last victim. It had been a relief to sink into the modest little bed at the end of the night, a relief to know that the hunting was over, the bloodshed was over, she could move on…but to what? She lay with her back facing the door, curled on her side with a delicate hand curled under her chin, white gold hair spread in a wave of soft, tousled curls across the bed. A pale shoulder, skin the color of fresh cream, showed from under the edge of the worn blanket. She looked, he thought to himself, beautiful. An angel perhaps, fallen from the sky. Watching her sleep it was easy to forget what she was. It was easy to forget that she was a killer, a harvester of souls, a true artist in deathcraft. It was easy to forget that she spilled blood almost as easily as water.

Cool fingers reached out to brush across that bare shoulder, the faintest of touches, but enough. To his amazement, she did not gasp, did not sit up and stare at him. No, the only sign that she had woken at all was the slight change in her breathing, and he could imagine that those eyes of palest amber were open, staring at the wall, "You sleep soundly for a murderer."

"Not soundly enough. Not nearly soundly enough. Would that I had no reason to

open my eyes again. The things I have done, they will haunt me to the end of my days, the things I have seen. Would that I could but die…but that is why you are here, isn't it? To kill me? To put an end to this all?"

"Child…if my purpose here was to kill you, you would never have woken," he felt a stab of something, of pity? No, not possible, such tender emotions had long sine been driven from his heart.

"Then who are you? Why are you here?" she stayed facing the wall, but the emptiness in was evident in her voice alone, he had no need to see her face, to gaze into those lovely, and oh so unique eyes.

He settled onto the edge of the bed, careful to keep at least a slight distance between them, "My name is Lucien Lachance, I serve as a Speaker for the Black Hand. Two years ago you drew the attention of the Night Mother, she does pay special attention to the descendents of her loyal servants, hopeful that their kin may prove of the same stock. Thus far, your kin have rather been disappointments, incompetent and sloppy…and then along you came. Your first kill drew her watchful gaze, and she has waited, biding her time until such a time that she thought it prudent to send someone to you. So, Lilith Rithsbane, great granddaughter of Gareth Rithsbane, I have come to offer the blessing of the Night Mother, to invite you to join our Brotherhood, which waits for you with open arms."

"I had thought to end the killing…I do not know that I could continue it. I do not know that I could do the Brotherhood justice," hollow, empty, her voice sounded that even to her own ears. She was wilting inside, becoming just a shell, a puppet without purpose. She hadn't particularly liked the killing, only believed that it must be done. Those men had been undeserving of their lives, and deserved to have them taken.

"Do you know, that of all the creatures in nature, only the sentient races like man are without a natural predator? So we turn on ourselves, raping, pillaging, burning and destroying. Then there are the hunters, people like you, and I, people who thrive on the hunt, and ultimately, the kill at the end. We are the predators of mankind, we and all our kind. It is, perhaps, not the most appreciated walk of life, but it is an important one. There must be checks and balances in place. There is no shame in what you are, no shame. You have only become what life has made you, through no fault of your own."

Lilith turned to face him at last, half rolling onto her back to stare at him with pale amber eyes that were filled with sorrow, and yet somehow hollow, "I had a simple life once. I did not have to worry about spilling blood or hugging the shadows. I lived beneath the sun, and now…now there is only darkness, only shadow. I have nothing left, no purpose, no family, nothing. I feel empty."

Lucien refused to meet those eyes, not wanting to see the pain trapped within them, knowing that if he did, it would stir something within him he had thought long dead, "You could have a purpose again, a family again," he retrieved a dagger that looked more ornate than useful, all onyx and gold ornamented steel. This he pressed into one of her hands, carefully curling her fingers around the hilt, "You do not have to make your decision now, but if you should choose to accept this invitation travel the Green Road, just to the north of Bravil you will find a place called the Inn of Ill Omen. There you will find a man named Rufio, use the blade I have given you to slay him and you will have completed your initiation. Once you have completed this task, when you sleep once more in a place I deem to be secure I will come to you with further instruction," then he was gone, as silently as he had entered.

Lilith sat up as he left, the well worn blanket sliding down to pool around her waist. Slender, delicate fingers danced along the decorations on the ornate little blade. She turned it over and over in her hands, staring at it, but not seeing it, staring through it.

A few months later she sat on the edge of a bed in the Lonely Suitor Lodge in Bravil, turning that odd little blade over and over in her hands the same as she had done every night for the past few months. What would it be to have a purpose again? Could she really hope to be embraced by the Dark Brotherhood so quickly, taken in as family? What would that be like? Would living as an assassin be any worse than only going through the motions every day until desolation finally claimed her? A slender finger tapped against the hilt of the dagger, and she rose suddenly, sliding the little blade back into the sheath that hung low on her left hip, the black leather standing out against the pale blue linen of her skirt. The armor she had left behind, thinking that she wouldn't need it any longer. She raked a hand through her white gold curls and tied them back at the nape of her neck with a blue ribbon.

Barely a soul looked up as she passed, Lilith had a way about her, a way that caused the eye to slide past her, despite her noticeable beauty, unless of course that she wanted to be seen. tThus, no one took notice as she made her way to the stables just outside town, where her horse, the same steed she had ridden from Havenmeet, awaited her. She was in the saddle and on her way before she could stop and change her mind. Heading north, looking for a simple inn where she would have to make the decision that would start her on a new path of life.

The Inn of Ill Omen looked the part. It was small, shabby, a place where no one of good, solid reputation would be found. That knowledge made her feel slightly better about the decision that had to be made. She dismounted, fastening the reigns of her horse to the battered hitch that stood outside the inn, and then she slipped inside. It was dim, dingy, the proprietor a shabby looking man with dark hair. She slipped up to the counter, affecting her best impression of being a simple country girl, not hard since she once had been.

"Excuse me Sir, I was wondering if you might be able to help me. My da is very sick, and he wants to see his brother Rufio before he dies, but we haven't been able to find him at all. Someone told me that they thought they'd spoken to a man named Rufio here, is he here still?"

"Rufio? Oh aye, strange little man, odd, always looking over his shoulder, acts like he's hiding from something. Have a care Girl, but he's here still, downstairs in what we call the 'private quarters', you'll need to go through the trapdoor over there," he gestured in the general direction of the hatch in the floor.

Lilith flashed a timid smile and ducked her head, "Thank you Sir, could be that it's not even the same Rufio I'm looking for," and she was away, slipping down the ladder into the lower rooms of the inn. One out of sight of the innkeeper she dropped the façade, became the hunter once more, clinging to the wall as she slid toward the door that was slightly ajar. A pale hand eased the door open as she darted inside. And he was there, lying on the bed. He looked haggard, like a fox run ragged in a hunt. His hair was graying, his clothes tattered, shabby. She would be doing him a favor by ending his life, granting him a relief from the hunt, a freedom. His death to grant her new life, was it such a high price to pay? She inched closer to the bed, silently drawing the little blade from it's sheath of back letter. It would be easy, quick, a sharp thrust, a quick slash and it would be done.

The blade flashed out, sliding through cloth, flesh, and muscle, grinding on bone to pierce the throbbing organ that pumped life giving blood through the body. Blood bubbled, then poured forth, soaking into the battered mattress of the rough bed. She wiped the blade on a clean spot of blanket, returned it to the sheath and ducked out, affecting her act once more as she left the inn, calling over her shoulder, "Not the right Rufio I'm afraid, I'll have to keep looking, thank you though," then she was gone, mounted and riding for somewhere, anywhere else. It was best to be away fast, before anyone discovered the body.

She retreated to the Imperial City one more, nearly falling asleep in the saddle. She left the horse at the stables and went to find a bed in the Merchant's Inn in the Market District. She fell into bed and was asleep almost before her head hit the pillow.


	3. To Find a Home

Chapter Three: To Find a Home

A/N: Well, Rite of Shadows was vaguely disappointing, I was hoping for a better turn out, but the muse just wouldn't cooperate. For those that noticed the disturbing lack of emotional reaction on the part of little Lilith Rithsbane, I should clarify that was the entire idea. She was supposed to appear empty, a vessel waiting to be filled with purpose and being. Hopefully I can pull off this whole blending original with the quest data well…we'll see. Oh, and fans of the Morag Tong, pay close attention, you may see some agents turning up soon, but I would never come right out and announce who they were, not this early in the game. But, in any case, here we go…

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A single, solitary candle burned in the homey little room on the second floor of the Merchant's Inn. A lone flame flickering, threatening to go out and cast the room, and the sleeper into darkness. He wondered, as he watched her sleep, if she had left the candle for his benefit, and was almost touched by the gesture. She no longer slept with her back to the door, but facing it, one slender, delicate hand tucked beneath a cherubim chin, those gorgeous white gold curls framing her face like a cloud. The blanket, not so threadbare as the last one she had huddled under, was tucked neatly across her chest, leaving her shoulders and arms bare, skin like cream seeming to glow in that flickering light. He was reaching out to wake her, to brush cool fingers across a bare shoulder, and pulled his hand back as if scalded when pale gold eyes flicked open a hair's breath before his fingers made contact.

"So, the deed is done," it was a struggle to keep that cool composure, but he was Lucien Lachance, Speaker of the Black Hand, he was not one to be so easily swayed by emotion.

Lilith sighed heavily and sat up, keeping the blanket wrapped around herself, "I won't ask how it is that you know that, because I've decided that you people have ways of finding out everything somehow, or else how would you know who to approach?" she realized, belatedly, that she was, perhaps, not entering into the safest of all occupations, or the wisest choice of one. She should have feared this man, feared him for his coldness, his utter calmness, and yet, some inner voice hinted that while Lucien was most certainly a man to be feared, he was also still only a man. It had been that little inner voice that had prompted her to leave that one candle burning in the little table next to the bed.

"You will learn a great many secrets now that you are part of this family, all such things will be revealed in time," Lucien could see the uncertainty dancing through her eyes, the warring emotions flicking across her strangely angelic face, and he settled on the edge of the bed almost before he realized what he was doing, "You are doubting yourself."

Four words, four simple words, and she trusted him completely. He understood, he could see past her ivory mask, see through the chinks in her armor, and though that thought should have scared her to death, it was more comforting, she wasn't alone anymore. She breathed a sigh of relief, "Doubting myself, my choices, my reactions. Two and a half years ago I had never even thought of picking up a weapon and hurting someone, let alone killing someone. I am not even sure I could have done it in self defense then. And now…now I feel lost without a blade close to hand, I have fallen into the art of death so deeply, I spill blood so easily, I can not help but wonder if I have murdered a piece of myself along with all those others. I do not even like killing, but it comes as a second nature."

"You are thinking, perhaps, that you are evil? As evil as those men who destroyed your life?" oh how well he remembered those feelings of doubt, the self loathing. She had dropped her gaze to the floor, pale gold eyes shining with unshed tears, he turned and tilted her chin up, "Good and evil are mere perceptions, nothing more. You will come to understand that in time I think, once you meet with the other members of your family in Cheydinhal."

She blinked at him in confusion, brow furrowing, lips pursing in a way that made them so very tempting, "Cheydinhal?"

"Yes. I serve as speaker for the Sanctuary there. Your next task is to travel to Cheydinhal, look for the abandoned house near the stone wall, there will be a well in the back yard. Enter, and go to the basement. You will find the black door there, attempt to open it and you will be asked a question, your answer is 'Sanguine my brother,' do not forget that. Once you are there, speak with Ocheeva, she is the mistress there. I have already spoken with her about you, she is expecting you," it was time to take his leave, before he did something foolish. And then he felt just the softest of touches, warm fingers brushing across his hand.

Her voice was soft, vulnerable, "Will I see you again?" Lilith didn't know why it was that it was so important that she be able to see him again, to have this close contact with him, just that it seemed so very important to her.

There was a long silence, he felt her beginning to draw back in on herself, to draw back from him, not physically mind you, but mentally, spiritually. He kept his voice steady, and even, a struggle not to betray the warring emotions within him, "Eventually, perhaps, if you progress through the ranks, but I will be watching your progress," Lucien drew himself together, straightening his shoulders as he rose, "But the hour grows late, and I have other duties that must be seen to," and then he fled, though it would seem as if he only slipped calmly and silently away. But he made himself not look back, not wanting to see her staring after him with pale gold eyes filled with desperation and need.

Lilith sighed softly, the faintest breath of a sound, then leaned over to blow the candle out before stretching back out on the bed to stare up at the ceiling in darkness, restless because sleep wouldn't come. She resolved, in that moment of silent darkness that whatever it took, she would climb through the ranks of the Brotherhood, whatever it took to see him again. Into the wee hours of the morning her eyes closed at last and she was granted a few hours of respite before she would have to be on her way. Cheydinhal…she hadn't laid eyes on that city in well over two years, not since that horrible, horrible morning after when she fled to the safety. What would it be to see the place again, to walk through the streets and remember? It wouldn't matter, she decided, it wouldn't affect her, she wouldn't let it.

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She entered Cheydinhal on in the early afternoon a few days later, slipping in by way of the east gate. She made her way south, hugging the stone wall. She soon came to a well, and slid around to the front of the building. There were boards scattered across the yard, discarded by some long gone carpenter, the short stone fence that had once guarded the front was crumbled and decayed with no one there to mend it, even the little iron gate lay flat in the yard, fallen from its hinges. The house was one of those quaint three story things that Cheydinhal was so fond of, a combination of wood and stone. It surely must have once been a glorious home, but the windows and door had long ago been boarded over, giving it the look of a broken shell, waiting…waiting for something, anything. The door in the front was the only entrance should she could find, facing the street with the patrolling guards and drifting people. Out of curiosity she tried the door, found it locked and sighed inwardly. A test of skills at every turn with this new family it seemed. She drifted off to an inn where she would be able to kill some time and wait for nightfall.

When night came Lilith made her way back to the abandoned house, assured herself there was no one to see her enter, and went to work on the door. It was an easy enough thing to enter, slipping silently inside like the pale shadow she was. It was dusty, and dark, filled with cobwebs and decaying, abandoned furniture, tables and chairs mostly. The little alcove that formed the third floor was empty but for an empty bookshelf and some smashed up crates. She found herself hoping that the basement at least was in fairer condition. But it wasn't, of course, it was just as dusty, just as dark, just as decorated by tattered cobwebs. In the far wall, someone had ripped the stone bricks out to reveal the naked opening of a passageway. She decided that the Black Door must be at the end of that passageway, wherever it led to.

Calming her emotions, steeling her will she slid into the passageway, half hugging the wall. Towards the end the lighting began to go to red, and she came to the door, a great, massive thing in blacks and reds. It was etched with a huge skull, floating in the sky, an open hand blazing from the dome of the skull. A tall woman with dark hair, holding what looked to be a knife or a chisel of some sort stood over a gathering of smaller figures. As she reached out for the door a voice, firm but whispering, almost seeming to echo, voiced the question, "What…is…the…color…of…night?" the words were somewhat halted, as if the speaker had to summon the strength, or merely the words to him.

The sounding of the voice unnerved her just a bit, but Lilith was determined, squaring her shoulders she drew herself up straight, her voice rang out clear and strong, despite her inner misgivings, "Sanguine my brother," and then the door swung open to admit the newest sister of the Dark Brotherhood into the sanctuary.

As the door closed behind her she heard that same voice whisper, "Welcome…home," it sounded almost proud, she thought. Proud of what? Of her? She wasn't anything to be proud of, that she knew.

As she stood in the entranceway, taking in her surroundings, she noticed an Argonian woman in the black and dullish purple armor of the Brotherhood striding towards her. The woman was colored in dull greens, browns, and reds, and carried herself proudly, her steps radiating confidence, "Welcome Sister, welcome to your new home. My name is Ocheeva, I am mistress of this sanctuary. Lucien has told me of you. This is a place of safety for our brothers and sisters, and I hope that you will feel comfortable here. When you are ready, speak with Vincente Valtieri for your first contract…but there's no hurry. Speak with your new brothers and sisters, become familiar with your new home, then speak with Vincente."

A ghost of a smile flicked across Lilith's lips at how warmly she was received by the sanctuary mistress, and then curiosity got the better of her. She drifted through the place, sticking her nose into dark corners, ferreting out the other members of her new family. She encountered Teinaava first, an Argonian male colored in vibrant orange-red, green and browns. He was the first after Ocheeva to greet her, and he was just as warm, just as welcoming. Then came Antionetta Marie, a blonde Breton…or Imperial, Lilith wasn't really sure which it was. The girl was friendly enough, bright, cheerful, but had a tendency to slip off in the middle of a conversation. Gogron gro-Bolmog was an Orc, and had all the standard Orcish personality traints, including a rather brutish sense of humor, but he, like the others, openly embraced her, welcomed her into this new family. Telaendril, the auburn haired Bosmer, a marksman expert who expressed a willingness to help whenever she could. Vincente Valtieri was, she was surprised to learn, a vampire, who might have been attractive, had centuries of being a blood drinker not robed him of it. Still, he dressed well, as you would expect a lord to dress, his long brown hair gathered into a tail at the nape of his neck. He was well spoken, and informative, she found herself liking him almost right from the start. M'raaj-Dar, on the otherhand, she took a strong disliking to right from the start, and he to her. The Khajit merchant and mage was rude and abrasive. She made up her mind to avoid him as much as possible, it would make things easier.

Lilith was seated at the table in the commons area, reading a book when Ocheeva approached her once more, "I nearly forgot Sister, since you are to be one of us, it is only proper that you are properly attired. This is your welcome gift, welcome to the family," she set a medium sized package down on the table and left.

As the Sanctuary mistress departed, the former farm girl pulled the package to her and carefully opened it. Within she found a set of the same soft, supple leather armor that her brothers and sister's all wore, complete with the hood. Shrouded armor, she smiled, perhaps it would not be so very hard to fit in here after all, perhaps she could really let herself be at home now.

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A few days later, Lilith sat, playing a game of chess with Vincente, as they were alone in the Sanctuary but for the pet rat, Schemer, who trundled along in the living quarters, and the skeletal dark guardian who trudged along the commons area. Vincente was winning…for the third game in a row, "So, tell me Lilith, what do you think of your new family?"

If she felt she could be completely honest with anyone in the sanctuary, it was him, so she was honest, open, "Gogron unnerves me a little I suppose, and M'raaj annoys me. Gogron openly revels in the bloodshed, and I just can not bring myself to that point yet. And M'raaj, he's so damned disrespectful and abrasive. Telaendril seems nice enough, when she's here, and Antionetta, maybe a little too cheerful. I'm not sure about Teinaava and Ocheeva, I do not really know them well, I do not know anyone well."

"Give it time Lilith, they will all grow on you, trust me."

"I suppose if anyone knew that, it would be you."

He flashed a fanged grin, flicking rose colored eyes towards the chessboard, "Checkmate."

Pale gold eyes darted to the board, danced across the different pieces, and she sighed heavily in defeat, "That ends it. I am done, three losses in a row is just too much for me to deal with," she suppressed a yawn behind one delicate hand, "And besides that, I am exhausted. Gogron really put me through my paces earlier."

Vincente nodded in agreement and began replacing the beautifully carved pieces back into their box, the set had been a gift, many years ago, and one of his most treasured possessions, "Come see me tomorrow then, I think it is time you began your work."

They parted ways then, Lilith to her bed, Vincente to his chambers. She felt surprisingly happy, light of heart. And, more to her amazement, she found herself slipping into bed, looking forward to the prospect of a contract, of being able to pull her own weight. She would have to work hard to gain the respect of her new family, and that was something she desperately wanted, their respect, and their affection, she craved it in the way a starving man craves food. A faint smile graced her lips as she sank into sleep, content for the first time in two long years.


	4. Death of Innocence

Chapter Four: A Pirate's Death

_Author's Note: And thus begins the missionline for the Dark Brotherhood, of course, there have been some creative licenses taken, for the sake of making the story flow a little better._

"This contract may prove to be slightly difficult for you," that was the cultured voice of Vincente, watching her through rose colored eyes from where he sat at the table in his quarters, "It requires you to take the life of Captain Gaston Tussaud, a pirate who seldom leaves the safety of his ship, the Marie Elena. I imagine he must feel safe there, surrounded by his crew. But he has angered someone, angered or annoyed them to the point that they wish him dead, and the deed must be done on the ship. A difficult task, but not impossible. To claim your bonus you must infiltrate the ship, slay Tussaud, and escape again without notice. You may want to consult with your brothers and sisters, they may have helpful advice."

"It does sound a difficult task Vincente…but it should not pose too much of a problem for me," Lilith left before she could see the little smile tugging at the corners of the vampire's mouth. She followed his advice, asking the others what they thought of the contract. Of course, of her newfound family, the only two other than Vincente that was in the sanctuary were Taleandril and Teinaava.

The auburn haired bosmer was in the training room, and when Lilith entered, her mane of white gold curls braided so it could be tucked beneath the hood, the wood elf laid her bow aside, "Good evening Sister. Rumor says that you've a contract today."

"Well…yes, that's what I've come to ask you about. Vincente said that it might be helpful to ask you all about my contracts before I start out, that you might have helpful advice."

"Yes," Teleandril nodded, "Sound advice that. So, what exactly is your task?" Lilith related what Vincente had told her about her mark, while the wood elf listened intently, "Ah, pirates. Close combat might be best to avoid if possible, since the rogues are particularly fond of sabers, but they are not, if I recall, very fond of armor. They aren't very fond of bows or magic either. I can see the question in your eyes Sister, and no, I haven't seen this particular ship. You might ask Teinaava though, he spends time in the waterfronts."

"I will, thank you," the girl nodded and slipped out to the common room, where she knew she would find the Argonian tucked into a chair at that little corner table, absorbed in a book, "Teinaava?"

To her great relief, he laid the book aside and offered up a slight smile, "Yes Little Sister?"

"My contract takes me to the Marie Elena, but I've never heard of that ship, so I know nothing about it, nor do I know how to get aboard it without notice. Teleandril said you spend a lot of time in the waterfronts, and said you might have seen the ship."

"The Marie Elena…ah yes, I remember. I took special note of her because of the odd little balcony on the ship. If I had to take a guess, I would say that it probably leads directly into the captain's quarters. As to getting aboard, I know that since she is a pirate's vessel, they off load and load huge cargo crates frequently. But the balcony may be your chief chance."

"Thank you Teinaave. Well, I'll see you when I get back then," there was no denying that she was nervous. Before, those men had been a matter of revenge, a clear cut issue of wrong and right, but now she found herself sliding into gray. Certainly this pirate had caused others injury, caused others misery and pain…but he hadn't done anything to her personally. Still, this was her place now, this was her family, the least she could do was to do them honor. She wasn't above any of them.

It was mid afternoon when she reached the waterfront district of the Imperial City, mid afternoon on a glorious late spring morning with the sun shining unimpeded by any clouds. Lilith decided that the weather was not in her favor that day. Ambling down the street along the water, she made a show of gawking at the few ships in the harbor. She spotted the Marie Elena easily enough, it was the only ship that was guarded by its crew. Tussaud must be a very paranoid captain indeed. It was, she thought, a rather lovely ship…for a pirate vessel.

A dunmer woman in white and blue approached her as soon as she neared, first affecting a cheerful and friendly tone, "Beautiful isn't she? A damn fine ship, with a damn fine crew. I should know, I'm the first mate. Malvulis is my name," and then the woman's tone ceased to be friendly and became a barely veiled threat, "So believe me when I tell you that we don't like people snooping around in our affairs. You go near that ship and my men will run you through."

Lilith blinked that pale amber eyes and put on her best naïve farmgirl expression, "Go near it? Oh no, no. I was just admiring it, that's all, but I'll leave now," she made a show of backing away, and once the woman had lost interest in her she began walking down the line of crates. She came across an open crate, big enough she could fit comfortably inside of it. But using that method to board would mean having to slip past any crew members still inside the belly of the vessel. That was, she decided, too much of a risk. And then she noticed the little balcony, that must have been what Teinaava had been referring to. He was right, it should lead directly into the captain's quarters…but that was going to be a long jump.

The girl straightened, murmuring the word that invoked the chameleon spell that would envelop her, make it more difficult for people to see her. Then she climbed up on the low stone wall and stared hard at the balcony. It would be a long jump, but she should, she thought, be able to clear it. With a murmured prayer she leapt, and stifled a startled gasp as she fell short. Hands flailed out, catching on the railing of the balcony. The girl dangled for a moment, collecting her wits, and then hauled herself up and over the rail, where she pressed against the side of the ship, murmuring her thanks. The splash would have alerted the crew to mischief and made her job that much more difficult. Now then, for the door.

The advanced difficulty of the lock on the door was just another sign of the man's paranoia, justified paranoia it seemed. It was difficult, but not impossible to pick…she would need to restock her supply of picks when she returned to the sanctuary. She eased the door open, slowly, ready to leap into action at the slightest noise from the hinges, but they were silent. She found herself in the lush private quarters of the captain, facing a table with a rich spread, and in the chair right before her, the captain himself.

Tussuad was a man with reddish brown hair, balding heavily on the top. He dressed richly, and ate richly…eating other people's lives. She felt the her anxiety drain away, felt the cool flame of calmness seep through her, she was steel, ice cold. She almost clucked her tongue at how unobservant he was, she had been able to enter directly behind him without him realizing at all. Not a good thing for a man with so many enemies he had to stay hidden on his ship. Slipping up behind his chair in a crouch, she could almost revel in the power she held in her hands, the power to take life, or to spare it. One hand flashed out, clamping over his mouth and jerking his head back at the same time, and even as she did this, the other hand flashed out, sunlight dancing off steel as it tore through tender flesh. Blood splashed out, bright and vibrant against the green velvet doublet he wore.

She might have made a thorough search of the quarters for valuables, but someone started pounding on the door, the door that led into the captain's quarters from the belly of her ship, voices chorusing questions of concern for the now deceased captain. She slipped out through the same door she'd entered, leaving them to find the remains of their beloved captain. Rather than try to make the jump again, she swung over the railing, dangled by her hands, then let herself drop into the water below. It was colder than she expected, but she took a deep breath and submerged, swimming beneath the water around the bend and out of sight of the ship. Once clear, the girl waded to the shore and changed into the second set of clothing she'd stashed there for just such an occasion.

It was night, a few days later when she reached Cheydinhal again, and made her way to the sanctuary, no, to home. She had expected to feel any number of things, remorse, to hate herself for what she'd become…but she was beginning to feel the first stirring of, of what, pride? Pride at being a murderer, well, why not?


	5. Family Ties

Family Ties

_A/N: Well, here we are, up to Chapter Five, that makes this, officially, the longest running fanfiction I've ever written. I feel so special now, really. Thus far, it seems, the few readers I have are pleased…at least I haven't received any grossly negative comments yet. In fact I'm rather pleased that people seem so receptive to a Dark Brotherhood romance fiction, and to the portrayal of the members of the Cheydinhal Sanctuary as actual people, instead of just cold blooded killers. I've always been intrigued by the darker aspects of these kinds of games, and I latched onto the Dark Brotherhood immediately. Anyway, we'll take a break from the questline and delve into the unique family dynamics of this group._

It was night when she drug herself back into the sanctuary, tired, dragging, barely able to place one foot in front of the other. It was a relief to be able to retreat to the quiet peace of the place, to come home. Home, she turned that word over in her mind, yes, home, that seemed right. Vincente was waiting for her in the common room, seated in a chair next to the door that led into the living quarters. She barely had time to register the fact that he was there before he had risen, wrapping her in a warm, brotherly embrace.

"Our sources in the Imperial City sent word ahead of you. You did very well Little Sister, very well indeed. I am certain that the Night Mother is very pleased with your skill in fulfilling this contract, and," he paused, stepping back to reach into a pocket, "You have more than earned a bonus I think," he pressed the small object into her right hand.

Lilith blinked sleepily, pale amber eyes dropping to her hand, and she started to stir a little. She uncurled slender fingers to peer at the object there, a narrow band of some sort of black metal that looked almost dull, "Please, don't think that I'm not grateful Vincente, but I'm-"

"Tired, yes, I'm sure. I only wanted to catch you before you went to sleep and congratulate you on a job well done. That little band you hold there is no ordinary ring. Enchanted, while you wear it you will find that locks are just a little easier to pick, and it will offer you a small measure of protection from physical and magical attacks. But I have kept you too long, sleep now, for I am certain that your siblings will accost you in the morning."

She nodded gratefully and slipped into the living quarters where she collapsed on her bed and sank into a deep sleep as soon as her head touched the pillow. The vampire was right, of course he was. She had no sooner began to rub the sleep from her eyes when her siblings descended on her with warm smiles, praise, and in the case of Gogron, a hearty clap on the shoulder that knocked her clean off her feet. She bore it all in good nature because it felt…well, it felt right. This was the sort of behavior that had taken place in Havenmeet, the sort of thing that made one feel wanted, needed. It was what made one feel as if one belonged.

A few weeks went by, flew by, weeks spent learning more about her new family, more about what she was, searching for who she was. Lilith woke one morning to the over powering stench of mass quantities of garlic, cooking. Her first response was to roll over, bury her head under the pillow and pull the blanket up.

"Not garlic again. Gah, of all the things she could experiment with, why does she always turn to bloody garlic," the growling voice of M'raaj was muffled, like he was trying to hide from the smell too.

Lilith stuck her head out, white gold curls tousled and dangling around her face, "Come again?"

"Antionetta! She fancies herself some kind of a cook. Always playing around with different ingredients, but for some reason she seems overly fond of garlic! Gah, I bet Vincente is fit to be tied," apparently, the Khajit was too focused on trying to block out the cloying smell to even bother being condescending towards the newest member of the family.

"Oh," well, that was something she hadn't known. Maybe Antionetta just needed an experienced hand. After weeks of eating venison and the same bland stew, Lilith was more than happy to lend her hand in the cooking department, what else were farm bred girls for? She tumbled out of bed, threw her mane of curls back in a loose tail and headed for the kitchen. M'raaj had been right, it must have been her, because the smell got worse the closer to the kitchen Lilith got, "Uh, Antionetta?" she called cautiously, poking her head around the corner.

Sure enough, the little blonde was peering into a bubbling cook pot, several butchered bulbs of the offensive stuff scattered around the room, "Hm?" she turned, "Oh, hello Lilith. I was just, um…this isn't turning out so well is it?"

Lilith offered up a weak smile and shook her head, "No. On the upside though, you've probably driven away any vampires in a ten mile radius…the down side is that we live with one of those vampires."

The petite blonde's face crumpled, "How can I be so good at some things, and so horrible at something this simple?"

"You think cooking is simple?" that drew a little laugh from the slender girl, "It's just as complicated an art as alchemy. You have to know what herbs go best with what meats, what vegetables are better prepared in what manner. Little subtleties that may not seem like much, but mean everything," she was already rolling her sleeves up and sweeping the garlic bulbs into an empty burlap bag, "Here, I'll show you. Take these out, and I'll empty the pot."

Twenty minutes later the pair of them were standing at the table, Lilith demonstrating how to properly dice vegetables, "It isn't that you haven't a talent for cooking Antionetta, you've just never been shown how. I grew up with my mother, someone had to bring the food in, and someone had to cook it. I was too little to hunt or gather, so I had to learn to cook. Now, you want the pieces to be almost even, but they don't have to be perfect. Meduim sized pieces. Too small and they'll cook too fast, too big and they won't cook fast enough," she carried the cutting board over and dumped the cut vegetables into the pot.

"But what about spices and such?"

"For a simple stew, you don't need much, a little sage, a few bay leaves, and maybe a diced clove of garlic. It's potent, so you should use it in small doses, so it's not so overpowering."

They spent the rest of the day there in the kitchen, laughing like real sisters, one learning from the other. Every so often, one of the others would wander by the doorway, pause, smile and move off, shaking their heads. In that one day Lilith was able to impart a wealth of knowledge, how to make bread, roasts, two different stews, a breakfast porridge, and how to store things so they'd keep.

In the weeks that followed, Lilith learned that all of her siblings had some knowledge to pass down to her. Telaendril showed her how to use a bow, Vincente began instructing her in the art of fencing, M'raaj the basics of magecraft. Ocheeva and Teinaava explained the history of the Brotherhood, and began teaching her about the world in general, the different cultures she would have to be knowledgeable of. And Gogron, Gogron taught her hand to hand, wrestling, boxing, how to fight if she found herself without a weapon. And in return, she brought to them all a freshness of youth, the brilliant smile of someone who hadn't yet learned to be icy steel and nothing else, the warmth of someone who recognized that, begin a killer did not necessarily mean that you had to be emotionally dead.


	6. Accidents Happen

To Stage An Accident

_Author's Note: Someone might have mentioned that I've been misspelling Vicente's name all this time. I don't know why I keep wanting to stick an 'n' in there, but someone might have let me know I was doing that._

Steel clashed on steel, ringing out clearly in the nearly silent training room of the Cheydinhal sanctuary. The pale shadow ducked and bobbed, spun and twisted, narrowly avoiding the great slashing claymore of her sparring partner. Gogron was smiling, grinning that half demented grin all Orcs have when their fighting blood is up. But there was no smile on the cherubim face of Lilith, white curls plastered to her head with sweat. Where the Orc wore his plate mail, the girl was clad only in light leather armor. When the match had started, the others had called out encouragement, but as it wore on, one hour, two, the calls gradually fell into silence and everyone watched, like the shadows they were. There was a screech, the shrill grating of steel on armor, and the pair stopped, froze actually, her slender swordtip resting lightly on the Orc's throat.

There was soft applause from the doorway, eyes turned to find the cultured vampire leaning against the wall next to the door, "Quite a show. Lilith, could I have a word?"

The girl nodded, patted the Orc on the arm with a little smile, "You leave yourself open with that overhead swing," then trotted out after Vicente, mopping at her face with a towel, "What's up Vicente?"

"I have an other contract that I think, may appeal to you," he was wearing that little smile, the one that just barely made the corners of his mouth turn up. It was the smile he wore when something amused him.

Lilith arched an ivory brow, "Oh?"

"It seems that a Bosmer that goes by the name of Baenlin has greatly annoyed someone to the point that they wish an end to his existence, but the client requests that it look like an accident. So, this is what your task will be. On the second floor of Baenlin's home is an entrance to a crawlspace. At the end of the crawlspace are the fastenings to the minataur head mounted over the Bosmer's chair. You are to gain entrance to the house, enter the crawlspace, and loosen the fastenings so that the head falls on him as he sits in the chair below. This must be done with the proper timing, you will find him in the chair between the hours of eight pm and eleven pm. And the manservant Gromm must not be harmed. Remember, this is to appear as an accident, there must be no sign that our Brotherhood was tied to the death at all."

"Sounds…interesting," well, at least it wouldn't mean getting her own hands bloody. The girl bobbed her head and slipped off to bathe. As simple as this contract sounded, it was going to mean a trip to Bruma, chilly, snow filled Bruma. Why couldn't it be someplace warm?

Antionetta drifted into the living quarters as Lilith was packing her haversack, "Contract?"

The ivory haired girl nodded and explained, quickly, the sooner she was off, the sooner she'd be done in that frigid place.

"Well, using the main door's no good, not if it's supposed to look staged. If I were you, I'd look for a cellar entrance or something, a more indirect approach if you will."

"That's not a bad idea Antionetta, thank you."

"Good luck! I hope you don't get killed…I mean…"her voice drifted off as Lilith let herself out of the living quarters, puzzling over the meaning of the blonde woman's words. What was that supposed to mean, and why did she sound so cheerful over the thought of her dying? Oh well, concentrate on the matter at hand.

When Lilith arrived in Bruma, she arrived wrapped in a heavy, fur lined tunic, thick boots, and a long, heavy cloak. She had never been a fan of winter weather, or of snow, or of cold in general. The leather armor of the Brotherhood was packed away in her saddlebags, since she didn't think she'd need it, this would, afterall, but a relatively simple objective, in and out without being seen, and no one was to suspect the involvement of her family even a little. Easy. Well, it should be anyway, providing nothing unplanned for happened.

Traveling south along the path from the north gate, she soon found the house of Baenlin, a huge structure that practically screamed wealth. It made her ill really, what use did a single old man and his one manservant have for a home as large as this? A quick check of the time told her that she was entering that three hour span in which her task must be completed. Slipping around the side of the house she found the wide wooden door set into the ground, a cellar entrance, just as Antionetta had suggested. Yet again the blonde's cryptic farewell came back, circling in Lilith's mind, 'good luck, hope you don't get killed.'

As she crouched, long ivory braid falling forward over her shoulder, to work on the lock, if was only one of an average difficulty, which said that the Bosmer felt secure with his safety, or surely the lock would have been more difficult, she thought of the wisdom of gaining entrance in this way. The streets were well patrolled, a guard passed by every few minutes, and it would be difficult to time her entrance and exit from the front. Entering here would ensure that no one passing by the house saw her and thought to remember after the Bosmer's death. It also would ensure that she could, at the very least, enter and exit the house relatively undetected by the occupants. The lock gave, and she slipped inside, silently.

The cellar, she decided, was typical, for that of a single man, dusty, cluttered, and filthy. That was of mild concern, the quantity of dust, she would have to remember to erase her footprints on her way back out, and to tread carefully, as to not disturb anything else. Lilith crept of the stairs, remembering a game she used to play in Havenmeet, a game where the children would all creep around trying to tag each other without being noticed. That was the game, you had to sneak up on the person you were trying to tag, it didn't count if you went running up to them. The door from the basement to the rest of the house was locked, but it was a simple thing to pick. Once the lock gave, the girl eased the door open just slightly, enough to peer out and make sure no one would see her slip through the cracked portal.

Once through the door, she hugged the wall, looking carefully around the corner to check the location of the home's two occupants. The target was sitting in his chair, which was indeed placed beneath the mouned head of a minotaur. The manservant…pale amber eyes widened. The manservant was a surly looking Nord who carried a large hammer. No doubt he would very much like to squish her if he should catch her about her task. It would take four steps to reach the stairway across from her, four quick, darting steps that must be timed so that she wasn't seen. Crouching, she waited patiently until Gromm turned away to tend to some small matter, then Lilith lunged for the opposite stairs.

She trod carefully, mindful that the home was older, and in those older homes, sometimes the stairs might creak, and give away she who tread upon them. But she made it up the stairs without incident. Around the corner she crept, quiet as a little mouse, into a bedroom. There was something odd about the far wall, and investigation led to the discovery of the entrance to the crawlspace. Lilith made her way slowly, walking as lightly as possible, it would do no good to give herself away by walking heavily across the floor and alerting the people below. As Vicente had said, at the end of the crawlspace were ropes fastened around a small piece of planking. Nimble fingers deftly loosened those fastenings, and she crouched there, waiting. There came then, shortly after, the sound of something heavy falling, a startled yell and the satisfying crack of breaking bones. The Nord below gave an anguished cry, she heard him run across the floor. The task was done, and now all she had to do was leave without being seen, should be easy enough.

She left just as quietly as she had entered, using slow, gliding steps that barely lifted her feet from the floor. The manservant was likely to be extremely on edge, and twice as observant as usual. The slightest sound, a creak or rustle could give her away, and that would be unpleasant. Once she was down the stairs, Lilith hugged the wall, peering out to check the result of her work. The Bosmer was dead, crushed beneath the weight of his own extravagance, and the Nord stood over him, looking to every side, that ugly war hammer grasped in both hands. This would be tricky…but it was also what scrolls were for, and spells. And one such scroll was very handy, as it would make the reader invisible, for a time. It was one of those that she retrieved from her little bag of tools, slinking back into the deeper shadows. Her lips moved, but made no sound, the words weren't needed to be verbally spoken. A few seconds later she glided past the opening between door and stairs unseen, a silent wraith.

Down into the cellar once more, where she took care to cover her steps, redistributing dust across her path so that it was nearly impossible to tell that anyone had recently passed by. Then it was back out into the open air…the chilly, frigid, open air. After assuring that no one was nearby, Lilith slipped back around the side of the house and headed for the gate.

In time maybe, the girl would learn how to be more thorough in her search for witnesses, but she was yet still new to this life of shadow and darkness. As it was, though she did look, she missed the four crouched figures watching from above, the figures garbed in brown leather with dark hoods. They were silent, and still, shadows, like she was, but of a different sort.

"That is her, yes Tharin Lenve?" the voice was female, but a harsh whisper, as if some damage had been done to her throat some time in the past.

Tharin Lenve, once a member of the Havenmeet settlement, a tall young man with dark hair and dark eyes nodded, his gaze still training on the vanishing back of the girl, "The Rithsbane family have the characteristic of having eyes the color of pale gold, and I remember, very vaguely, that Gareth Rithsbane had a granddaughter with hair the color of white gold. It could surely be no other."

"She is young yet, and inexperienced. Our contact was right, she will serve as an excellent tool to gain us entrance to their pitiful sanctuary."

Tharin nodded, silently. He was not overly fond of the idea of using someone from his own roots as a tool, less fond of the idea that when they were finished, she would die. But she had chosen to serve the enemy. And that was a crime that could not be excused.

A/N: Yes, I am aware that the action in this chapter bites royally, but this was a rather simple and straightforward mission to do. Not a lot of careful sneaking and whatnot. Things will get better, I promise. And look, the first appearance of everyone's Morag Tong. They'll probably pop up every now and then, the actual confrontation will most likely come after Lilith picks up a few more promotions.


	7. Subtle Shadows

Chapter Seven: Subtle Shadows

_A/N: Holy crap, Chapter Seven. Whoooo! Breaking records people, breaking records, totally. Anyway, in Chapter Six we saw the appearance of four agents of the Morag Tong. And, let's face it, the chapter bit. So, we're going to take a little break from the mission line, explore the inner depths of an assassin's heart. If this fiction goes over well, I may write one for each of the main factions, the Fighters Guild, the Mages Guild, and the Thieves Guild. Feedback! I need feedback people! Do you want me to do that? Would you all like to see the other factions done in this way?_

Moonlight danced over the soft ripples on the surface of the lake. Sitting there, on the top of that grassy hill, it was easy for her to forget everything that had transpired over the last few months. White gold curls spilled down her back, pooled on the ground around where she sat. She'd left her armor tucked away in the chest next to the head of her bed back in the sanctuary, she'd wanted the chance to just sit and think, and not be reminded of what she had become. Instead, she wore a simple dress of pale blue, with silver embroidery around the hem, waist, collar, and ends of the sleeves. She carried no weapons, and so, she was only Lilith Rithsbane, a simple girl from simple roots, enjoying the view of the small lake from the top of a grassy hill.

_Was I destined to this life then? Is Death etched so deeply in by roots that I can not escape being his hand? Would Mother, looking down on me, be proud of what I've become? Was she a murderer too?_ The thoughts spiraled through her mind at an alarming rate, danced back and forth, self doubt smothering the confidence she had only so recently begun to build. Delicate hands absently smoothed at wrinkles in the skirt of the gown. Across the lake a woodsman, heading home after an uneventful and long day of hunting glanced up, saw the silver moonlight playing off her fair skin, and ivory hair and thought that surely he must be seeing an undine, or some other elemental spirit. He continued on his way with a lighter step, for surely the hunt would prove better on the morrow.

She was so lost in her own thoughts that she never heard him approaching, never realized when he stood behind her. She never noticed or felt, the chill that most did when he was near, the cold aura he seemed to radiate. She was oblivious, until his cool fingers smoothed along a shoulder, bared by the style of the dress. He felt the heat rush to her skin, a blush perhaps, that was difficult to see in the moonlight, "You are doubting yourself again."

Lilith bowed her head, spilling curls forward to hide her face. Her voice was soft, "No, not really. I was only thinking about what might have been. Ocheeva told me that my great grandfather, Gareth, once served the Night Mother, just as I do. I was wondering if my mother did as well. I was wondering, if I have done the right thing. I would not change anything, not now. I feel as if I begin to belong, the others are becoming as close as a real family to me, and I would not wish to lose that, but I still wonder, if I made the right decision."

She didn't look up, but she heard cloth rustle, felt him settle on the grass beside her, "You knew very little about the importance of Havenmeet, I see that know. I shall explain then. There are three factions in our world, which are frowned upon by society. You have the Morag Tong, legal assassins who work on the basis of writs, the Thieves, professionals who acquire specific items for clients, as well as whatever else they can lay hands upon, and the Dark Brotherhood, whom you already know about. Decades ago, three members of these factions became allies, which is unusual in itself, as we seldom are agreeable with one another. The Morag Tong are our enemies, and we theirs, and the Thieves consider themselves above petty murder. When they retired they agreed to establish a settlement together. But this was to come with a price. From each generation, no fewer than three were to be sent to each guild. The Rithsbane family has served the Night Mother for generations, the Lenve family, the Morag Tong, and the Tarvan family the guild of Thieves."

"So…it is ingrained in my blood, what I am, who I am. Generations of it."

"Precisely. So there is no need for this self doubt you plague yourself with. You are precisely where you are meant to be," and there should be no more said than that. _You are a fool Lucien, in coming here, in seeing her like this. You have duties of your own that must come before all other things, duties to your family. Such tender emotions and liaisons will only serve to complicate matters._

When she turned to him, lifting her chin so that the curls slid back from her cherubim face, moonlight played across her face skin in a way that nearly made his heart stop, "I never properly thanked you did I?"

It was an almost visible struggle from him to keep his warring emotions hidden, "For what?"

"For saving me. For giving me purpose, and a family. For showing me that I have not lost everything, that I still yet have a reason to live," maybe it was the moonlight, or perhaps they both just simply took leave of their senses, but the girl reached out to lay a hand against against his cheek, her brow furrowing at the coolness she found there, "I've noticed, Lucien, on the rare few occasions we have touched, that your skin is always so cold. I never understood that, your heart beats, blood still flows through your veins just as it does in mine, and yet, you are cool where my skin runs hot."

He was hesitant, as if trying to decide how he should react. He should have removed her hand, left her there on the hill. It would have been better for the both of them if he had. But he did not. Warring emotions won over, his cool hand closed over hers, "You are still so young. In years that have passed, I have had to shut away most emotion, to forge my will as one would forge a blade. In doing so, I fear that I have become as cold as steel itself."

The silver light that danced across her eyes of pale amber was, he thought, beautiful, "If you are steel, and I am fire, perhaps steel could be forged into something other than a blade."

"What you suggest would not be wise," no, it wouldn't be, but is life was full of sacrifice, why could he not enjoy one small thing?

Lilith turned her whole body so that she was facing him, her head tilted to one side to spill those gleaming white curls across a bare shoulder, "I have often been told that I am both unwise and rash. Impulsive, I think it was," saying that, she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips, "And frankly, I really don't care if it would be wise or not."

They spent the night together, there on that grassy hill, parting only when Dawn began to stretch her rosy fingers across the sky to draw back the black curtain of night. They parted ways outside the gates of Cheydinhal, clasping hands one last time, "Because my duties keep me very occupied, I cannot say when we will next see each other, when we will have the opportunity to spend time as we would wish. But know that I am watching, always."

A ghost of a smile played across her lips, "If never we meet again, I am thankful for the time we have had, and cherish it," one last kiss and they parted. Lilith returned to the sanctuary, humming softly to herself.

"For someone who was out all night, you sound remarkably cheerful, Little Sister," the girl stopped, brushing the thick ivory braid back off her shoulder. When she turned, she found M'raaj staring at her from the corner of the commons, where he had, it appeared, been reading a book.

"I slept…some. Mostly, I just stared at the water and thought about what direction I want to take my life next," there was a distinct note of mistrust in the Khajit's voice, and his ears were flattened halfway. Granted, they had never precisely gotten along, but this was odd behavior…even for him.

"Strange things are happening in our family Little Sister. In the past three days, two of our Sanctuaries have been raided, the family members there slain. This is not a good time to be venturing alone, it would only draw suspicion to you," Lilith was surprised to find that there was genuine concern in his voice. And he kept his voice low, as if afraid of being overheard, that was not a good sign, the Sanctuary was supposed to be the one place where they could all be safe."

"You warn me, but you do not suspect me? That would be natural, wouldn't it, to suspect the newest member when trouble starts?"

"The trouble started before you ever joined the Family, but it was thought to be under control I suppose. There have always been less than loyal turncoats, but the punishment for treason is usually vicious enough to deter others from acting against the Family."

"But someone is."

"Yes…someone is. Pray, Sister, that it is not someone here, in this Sanctuary, because if it is, we will all pay the price. Be wary, Little Sister, be wary," and with that, he strode away, leaving her a great deal to puzzle over.


	8. Breaking and Entering

**Chapter Eight: Breaking and Entering**

_And here we are with Chapter Eight. I realize that this has been a long time coming, and I've been terribly lax with updating. My apologies to all. I got hooked on Samurai Warriors 2 and F.E.A.R, and Oblivion sort of got pushed off to the side. I haven't forgotten this, it's just been momentarily set to the side. But now I'm back again, ready to continue on. I've recently started the Knights of the Nine questline, and I might soon be adding that to my list of fanfictions to run. In any case, here we go again._

"The Night Mother is very pleased with your progress Lilith, you've shown an amazing amount of improvement in a very short amount of time. But this contract will test you abilities beyond anything else that you have done thus far," the dark haired vampire of the Cheydinhal Sanctuary , sat at his writing desk, a scroll unrolled before him.

The girl, for no matter how easily she killed, there would be no denying her youth, it was written in her face, in her pale amber eyes, in the way she carried herself, the hesitancy when she acted, the self doubt, stood to the left, her slender arms folded across her stomach, "What the Night Mother commands, I shall obey, and should I be unable to do so, then gladly do I got into the Void."

A faint smile curved Vicente's lips, "Yes, I thought that might well be your opinion. Very well then, this contract shall have you doing the most unexpected. Within the Imperial prison is a Dunmer by the name of Valen Dreth. I believe that he is slated to serve a life sentence, but for one reason or another, someone wishes him dead. Your task is to gain entrance to the prison through the sewers below. There is a hidden passageway that exists for the easy escape of the emperors there. A pity that it did not work this time. In any case, you are to eliminate Dreth and escape, without harming any of the guards that might be patrolling."

Lilith tipped her head to one side, spilling ivory curls down over one shadow clad shoulder, "No small task is it that is laid before me. I am honored to be chosen."

And she was honored, if not entirely happy about the decision. This was the sort of contract that might have been better reserved for the senior members of the sanctuary. Though she was climbing the ranks swiftly, she was not so certain that she was on that sort of a level of skill. But she had been commanded, and so she would obey. As she returned to the living quarters, she felt like her feet were made of lead, dragging her down further with each step. It was not a sort of despair that she could easily hide from her family, though she did make the attempt. But Ocheeva was no blind woman, she was a woman who made her living in being able to read people, no matter how deeply they might be hiding their emotions.

"Why so distraught Sister?"

"I fear, Ocheeva, that I've been given something of an impossible mission. The Imperial prison is well known for its difficulty to break in, or out of. I am so very new to this, I do not know if I am up to this."

The Argonian reached out to lay a hand on the girl's shoulder, "It is true, that no Brother or Sister of our family has successfully broken into the Imperial prison in over three hundred years, but it is also true that we have never had a Sister quite as quick a study as you. You show a reluctance, and a remorse over each kill, but you go about them so efficiently. I think, that you will see the way, where one of us would not."

That brought a wavering little smile to Lilith's lips as she raised a hand to lay it over the Argonian's, "Thank you, for that vote of confidence. I only hope that I can live up to everyone's expectations."

"Oh, I think you'll do well enough, have no doubt of that."

They parted ways, the girl trailing on into the living quarters, where she began to prepare what little equipment she would be taking with her. That was when Gogron ambled in, boisterous and cheerful as the Orcs almost always are, "So! I hear you're going to be breaking into the Imperial prison!"

"Word travels fast," she muttered, two daggers, a change of clothes, two potions that would allow her to become temporarily invisible when drunk, her bow, a gift from Telaendril, ebony, with silver embellishments, and a quiver, were laid out on her bed as she rummaged through her chest for her shoulder bag.

"Be wary of those guards Little Sister, they tend to be well armored, and well armed. If they spot you, you're wisest choice would be to flee. There's no shame in running when you're outdone."

She stopped, lifting her gaze to fix him with a look, "Thank you Gogron, the thought of fleeing had never crossed my mind. I thought perhaps I might stand there and let myself be skewered," her voice practically dripped sarcasm, to the point that he laughed. Well, he always had been an odd one. She shook her head as she carefully packed away those things necessary, the quiver and bow being slung over one shoulder.

Teinaava was waiting for her, on her way out, leaning against the wall next to the door, "Have you given any consideration, Sister, as to how you are going to get out, once you have accomplished this task?"

A ghost of a smile flicked across the girl's lips, "Of course I have. I'm going to walk right out the front door. I have extra clothes with me. Once I've completed my task, I'll slip back down the passage far enough to change, and then I'll just saunter out through the bastion. The ultimate insult to them yes? First to have their prisoner executed within the very walls of their prison, and then to have the killer walk out beneath their very noses."

"A nice touch. Take care Sister, and be well."

The trip to the Imperial City was uneventful, which was to be expected, and she had no difficulty locating the gate she would have to enter by. As she had suspected, it was locked, and she was thankful that one of the things Vicente had provided her with was a key, because it would have been an extremely difficult and time consuming lock to pick. She slipped silently into the murk of the sewers, treading carefully. This was unknown territory, and Sithis only knew what manner of creature she might encounter. But surprisingly, the worst thing she found was a couple of over eager rats, which were easily dispatched.

It was silent, so still but for the dripping and sound of running water that she could nearly hear her own heartbeat, and while this fact might have set others on edge, it only served to soothe Lilith's nerves. Silence, shadows, that was what she was. A wraith, slipping through shadow in silence. She crossed a short bridge that spanned across a lower room, and ducked through the door. She followed the path around, and paused to check the rough map she had been given, confirming her location, she dropped almost noiselessly down into the muck and trudged through the open water gate at the far end. It brought her to a large, circular shaped room with a descending ramp, which she took, to come to a small gate. Passing through it, she veered off to the right and came to a ladder. Another reference to her map told her that it would lead her up into the Imperial Sanctum, and from there she would have to be wary, for those rooms were bound to be patrolled.

And sure enough, as she slipped down the shadowed passage, torchlight ahead gave warning of the guards she would soon here in conversation, complaining about their duties. She heard Dreth's name come up, confirming that her target was still in the prison, and was the only occupant of the cells. This was good, it would mean no witnesses. Eventually, after another ten minutes of bantering, they parted ways, one heading off to the right, the other back through the door which she would have to pass through herself. She waited, hugging the wall, until she was sure that they had left the room. It was large, and open, and she was thankful she would spend little time in it, there was precious little in the way of comfort there.

Moving through the far doorway, she found herself in another large room, this one littered with pillars, both whole and crumbled, plenty of cover. The guard was standing to the left of the stairs she would need to take, facing outwards. Of course they had to make things difficult. As if breaking into the prison wasn't bad enough in itself. She hugged shadows, sliding through the darkness in the farthest parts of the room, dodging shafts of light filtering down through the gaps in the ceiling. She came down the right side, clinging to the wall, until she was sure she was past his line of vision, and then darted up the stairs and through the door.

Here it was mostly dark, a fact she was thankful of, but it was something of a maze of smaller rooms composing one large one, which she was not at all thankful for. As she slipped quietly down one passage, torchlight appeared on the far end, bobbing her way. She stifled a curse and fled to the further recesses of the room, and only just in time as a guard on patrol came ambling past. Light danced across her as she clung to the back of the pillar, waiting. She could feel her heart, pounding, seeming to be in her throat. He passed, and she breathed a sigh of relief, ducking out to hurry down the path he had just left. She passed a wooden table, on which there sat a helmet, and moved down the hallway to a set of double doors.

She was relieved to find that there were no patrolling guards here, it made her job so much easier. She moved up three sets of shallow stairs and found herself wondering who the bloody hell had designed this place, deciding that the architect must have been on skooma, and left through yet another door. Again, no guards, which she marveled at. You would have thought, that the closer you came to the prison itself, the more inclined they might have been to have it guarded, but apparently no. She ambled along the passage, coming out in an empty cell. She hung back, listening to the guard on duty taunt the dunmer. Well, at least there wouldn't be an outcry over his death, apparently, he wasn't particularly well liked. She dropped into a crouch, slinging her bow from her shoulder. Carefully she knocked an arrow, and took aim. There was no sound at all as she released, not a twang of the bowstring or a whisper of movement. He went down without so much as a gasp, and she slipped back into the shadows as the guard that had been taunting him simply walked away.

Quickly, Lilth shed her armor, opting instead for a dark blue gown, packing everything else away into her bag. She straightened, and calmly walked out of the cell. One a table, just down from the dunmer's cell, a key lay, she imagined that it must go to the bastion door and was proved correct when she reached the door and found it locked. No one even looked up as she sauntered past, and exited into the streets of the Imperial City. She might have laughed, but felt it best to save her mirth for behind closed doors, where people might be less inclined to think her mad.


End file.
